The Ramseys Boxed Set

by Altonya Washington

  Quay could sense a change in the way she responded to his touch. Something had chilled and he knew she was having second thoughts about her participation in their encounter. He released her slowly and with great reluctance. As though it were the most important task, he removed the lipstick smudged at the corner of her mouth with the pad of his thumb.

  When he walked away, Ty pressed her hand to her heart as though that would still its rampant beating. She prayed her legs would support her until she made it to her car.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Quest’s gray stare was fixed on his laptop which was perched on the coffee table. “Maybe we should have a dinner party,” he suggested absently while trying to concentrate on his game of online chess.

  Mick shook her head, her eyes fixed on a computer screen as well. “Haven’t you done enough meddling?” she responded in a tone that held an absent aura similar to her husband’s. Seated behind the massive cherry-wood desk in his study, she performed her daily internet scouring for possible leads into the case.

  Quest grimaced at his wife’s mention of the dinner fiasco earlier that week. “Just bad communication,” he excused. “Besides, you should’ve told Quay not to bring a date when you invited him to be there.”

  Mick’s lips parted and she looked up. “I told him it was just going to be the three of us. How was I supposed to know, he’d bring a date? He hasn’t been out with anyone in two years,” she argued gently, her gaze narrowing mischievously as she refocused on the desktop screen. “Anyway, you’re his twin. You should’ve psychically tapped in and realized he was going to do something stupid.” She pointed out in a haughty tone and was promptly hit in the side of the head by the pillow Quest threw.

  “Her crew’s coming in today,” he shared, folding his arms across the Seahawks jersey that emphasized the striking breadth of his biceps and chest. “It might be a nice touch to throw a dinner party for the group. It’s sure to be a grueling project and everyone should start off as comfortable as possible.”

  “Sounds like you’ve already put a lot of thought into this,” Mick was still focused on her screen.

  Quest shrugged. “We could have it here, make it very relaxed. We could even cook all the food.”

  Mick finally looked toward her husband where he sat before the coffee table. “We? You and me? Hmph, you’re just full of bad ideas today, aren’t you?” she teased, leaning back in the chair as she crossed her bare legs. “Do you know what’ll happen if we’re tied down in a kitchen together?”

  Quest blinked, his gray eyes settling on his wife. “Tied down, huh?” he appraised the line of her shapely chocolate form much of which was left bare by the cotton shorts jumper she wore.

  Mick shook her head. “Stop Quest.”

  “Not unless you come over here,” he challenged.

  Her lashes fluttered and the familiar stirring someplace unmentionable told Mick that was a challenge she would definitely not back away from. “Oh...if you insist,” she sighed, leaning close to the PC. “Just let me shut this thing down…can’t be,” she whispered then and her head tilted just slightly.

  Quest’s brows drew close. “What?”

  Mick was already reaching for the phone and dialing the number to the Police Department in Savannah, Georgia.

  Quest left the floor and came to perch his tall frame against the side of his desk.

  “Jillian Red, please,” Mick was speaking to the person on the other end of the line. She chewed her bottom lip as her nails tapped out a quick tune along the desk.

  “Jillian Red.”

  “Michaela Sellars,” Mick hoped her name would sound familiar.

  There was a slight pause, and then laughter filtered through the receiver. Mick realized she had indeed connected with her former contact during her reporting days. Of course, Jill refused to part with any information on herself until Mick shared what had been going on in her own life.

  “Girl what are you doing down south? Was the windy city too much for you?” Mick was asking.

  Jillian was laughing. “That is a very long and dramatic story.”

  “Well are you still in forensics?”

  “Hmph, the powers that be at my lovely former precinct didn’t seem to appreciate the fact that I was good at my job.”

  “Uh-oh.”

  “Mmm, anyway it seemed that I was getting too close to solving my last case and they trumped up some cause to remove me from my team and the force altogether.”

  “Damn,” Mick whispered.

  “Story of my life. So now, I’m in charge of the cold cases for the SPD.” Jill explained. “It was the only position I could find that was even remotely stimulating.” She confided.

  “So are you working on anything now?” Mick asked.

  “Just finishing up reports on a case I just closed.”

  “Congratulations!”

  “Please! I should be congratulating you,” Jill said, referring to the self-history Mick gave earlier in their conversation. “Successful author and happily married woman? Sounds like life is good.”

  “Oh it is,” Mick softly confirmed, tugging on Quest’s hand as she spoke, “but even a happily married woman could use a helping hand every now and again.”

  “Do tell.”

  “Are we still close enough to exchange professional favors?”

  “Of course. Whatcha got?”

  Mick smiled. Releasing Quest’s hand, she scooted closer to the desk. “Actually it’s something I think you have- a cold case.”

  Jill laughed shortly. “Yeah, I’ve got tons of those.”

  “Well, if you can crack this one, I’ll bet the SPD would create a forensics position for you.”

  Jill was silent for a few moments as she processed the possibility. “Well don’t keep me in suspense girl, what’s the case?”

  Mick looked up at Quest. “It’s who, Jill. Sera Black.”

  ***

  Ty stretched, luxuriating in the security of crisp, petal pink cotton sheets and thick quilts. Her eyes opened to thin, doe-shaped slits as though she were uncertain what she might see. The sight of her mother, caused a smile to widen on her face.

  “Good morning,” she called, seeing her mom brought a rush of warmth to her body.

  Roberta ‘Bobbie’ Lowery looked up from setting out breakfast in the small alcove in the bedroom. Seeing her daughter; nestled in bed, brought laughter lilting into the air. Tykira looked every bit the little girl and Bobbie realized then how much she’d truly missed having her home.

  “Good morning, baby. Did you sleep well?” Bobbie asked.

  Ty stretched again, curling her fingers around the edge of the pillow cases. “I slept very well. Even though my room doesn’t look the same,” she added slyly.

  Bobbie’s head full of coarse tresses bounced merrily when she laughed. “Honey please don’t scold an old lady for trying to spice things up.”

  “Isn’t your life spicy enough Miss Jetsetter?” Ty teased.

  “You’re right,” Bobbie sighed. “I’m hardly ever here. Those Ramseys got me flying from one part of the world to another.”

  Ty threw back her covers. “Anyway, you love it.”

  Bobbie’s look was pure cunning. “Sure I do, but they might stop sending me on these all-expense paid things if they knew that.”

  The room filled with laughter.

  “Now, I’ve got coffee and Danish,” Bobbie announced, clasping her hands together as she looked down at the cozy table. “We’ll finish the rest of our breakfast downstairs,” she decided.

  “Mmm coffee and Danish…conversation food,” Ty guessed, having left the bed to stroll toward the alcove. Obviously, her mother was in the mood to talk and she had a pretty good idea about the subject. Taking a seat on one of the cushioned cream armchairs she leaned forward and smelled the pot of coffee. “Mmm…Hazelnut. You want to discuss Quay,” she surmised.

  “Stop being a smart-aleck,” Bobbie ordered, with a roll of her eyes as she took a seat. “I know you
’ve seen him.”

  “I’ve seen him,” Ty’s easy expression changed a bit.

  “And?”

  Ty helped herself to coffee. “He’s gorgeous.”

  Bobbie rolled her eyes again. “I know that. What else?”

  Ty kept her gaze averted. “What do you mean ‘what else’?”

  “Have you talked?”

  Ty eased a stray lock behind her ear. “About what? We haven’t seen each other in fifteen years,” more like two years, she added silently, recalling the wedding reception.

  “Exactly,” Bobbie said.

  Groaning, Ty focused on choosing one of the heavenly Danish from the white floral print china plate. “Mommy have you forgotten the way things ended between us? Sorry, but that’s not a conversation I want to replay or memories I want to relive.”

  Bobbie broke a cinnamon Danish in half. “You’re still in love with him.”

  Ty wouldn’t deny it. “What good will it do?” she tucked her long legs beneath her on the chair. “Nothing would change. Quay isn’t as outwardly cold to me as he used to be, but there’s still a distance. I feel it in myself. I feel it in him too. It’s as though he wants to be warm, but then…I don’t know,” she shook her head and concentrated on adding sugar and cream to the coffee. “Something always changes and that’s when I pull away and start to remember. Then I get angry with myself for- for-”

  Bobbie reached over to pat her daughter’s hand. “I understand. Do you think there’s a chance that he’s trying to make things right between the two of you?”

  Ty frowned over the question. “I don’t know why.”

  “Oh boy,” Bobbie shook her head. “So beautiful and successful, but so dense at times.” “Mommy?!”

  “Is it possible, that he still loves you as much as you love him?”

  “After all this time?”

  Bobbie waved her hand. “What’s so crazy about that? Your feelings haven’t changed.”

  “But this is Quay we’re talking about,” Ty’s brown eyes hardened with agitation. “And if he loved me, then why would he have treated me so coldly all those years ago?”

  “Honey you two were babies and Quay was just young and stupid. My guess is now he sees what he’s missed and he doesn’t want to lose you again. Personally, I’ve wanted to kick his butt for the way things ended between the two of you. But a part of me believes there was more to that entire mess than he ever let on to you or to anyone else.”

  Ty shook her head, refusing to let her spirits soar over her mother’s perception. “I just can’t see that,” she blew at the surface of her coffee before helping herself to a taste.

  “Have you ever just come right out and asked him why he treated you that way?” Bobbie challenged.

  Ty’s lips parted, but she couldn’t respond. She wanted to tell her mother that she already knew why. Unfortunately, telling Bobbie that Quaysar Ramsey had gotten what he wanted from her and was done or that she’d given him her virginity and he’d given her his ass to kiss didn’t seem like prime info to be shared in a mother daughter talk.

  Thankfully, Bobbie felt that she’d given her daughter enough to think about and decided to leave Tykira be. “Get showered and come down for the rest of your breakfast,” she said.

  ***

  Tykira stepped outside the express elevator and into the Ramsey twin’s dark, posh penthouse office. She cleared her throat purposefully, hoping one of them- preferably Quest- would appear and they could get the meeting underway. In spite of her dramas with Quay, she had become very involved and inspired by the monumental project.

  Ty received her wish, when Quest stepped from the elevator car a short while later.

  “Where’s your crew?” Quest was asking once they’d finished hugging.

  Ty set her black portfolio to the credenza. “They called from the plane to tell me they were just landing,” she tossed her thick locks across her shoulders as she secured another larger portfolio beneath her arm.

  “Sounds good,” Quest nodded as a curious light brightened his gray eyes. “So does the project have your creative juices flowing yet?” he folded his arms across the oatmeal heather polo shirt he sported.

  “Does it?” Ty patted the portfolio under her arm. “Ideas started flowing as soon as I left the office after our first meeting.”

  Quest’s sleek brows rose. “Impressive.”

  “Let me show you,” Ty waved Quest toward his desk. The portfolio housed several preliminary sketches, which she spread out on the huge polished surface of the desk. “I’m not sure if the group prefers something more old world style or a more modern look for the rail,” she motioned towards the sketches as she spoke. “Maybe they’d like a mix of both styles to show in the finished design.”

  Quest tugged the long sleeves of his shirt above his forearms. “This is somethin’,” he marveled, his gaze intent as he studied the work.

  Tykira and Quest were still reviewing the drawings when Quay arrived in the main office.

  “Man, you gotta see this. Ty’s got some really good sketches for the rail here,” Quest glanced at his brother from across his shoulder.

  Quay remained silent, unbuttoning the raspberry suitcoat he wore over a jet black shirt. Instead of joining the twosome at the desk, he took a seat at the back of the room and watched from afar.

  Almost a week had passed since he and Ty had kissed in that very room. Since that time, his well-known and well-feared temper had begun a slow simmer. Quaysar Ramsey was not a man known for his patience-especially when it came to wooing a woman. He’d never had to be patient when the women came tumbling at his feet. A kiss, a soft-spoken compliment or glance usually did the trick. Many times it had taken far less. As usual, Ty had him stumped. Clearly, she didn’t trust him-that was for sure. He knew if he could win that back, she would be his.

  Of course, something as precious as winning back trust didn’t happen overnight. Therein lay his problem. His thoughts were progressively filled with images of them together so long ago. They were just kids then and still that encounter was the standard by which he’d judged all others. There had been no equal and he knew the only other encounter that could compete would be with her.

  Ty tried to keep her mind on Quest and what he was saying, but all she could do was curse herself for wearing the businesslike yet alluringly feminine suit for the meeting. The beige tweed skirt suit, didn’t do a damn thing but call attention to her thighs thanks to the high split in the back of the skirt. Not only could she feel Quay’s ebony stare on her, she could see it each time she cast a casual glance across her shoulder to see if he’d left the room. No surprise, he hadn’t gone anywhere. He just sat there and continued to roam her body with so much familiarity; as though he’d become her lover that morning instead of fifteen years ago.

  “These are terrific Ty- just terrific. I can’t get over it.”

  Quest’s excitement over the sketches roused Ty’s amusement. “I can’t wait to see your reaction when you see the real thing,” she teased.

  “Quay man, you should see this!” Quest once again beckoned his brother. He’d already turned back to scour the sketches further and didn’t hear his twin’s reply.

  “I’m sure it’s as good as it looks,” Quay’s gaze remained unwavering and trained on Ty.

  She heard every word.

  Quest was shaking his head. “You can really make somethin’ that looks like this?” he marveled.

  Ty laughed aloud. “I can’t believe you’re so taken by this when Ramsey creates such phenomenal stuff.”

  “Mmm hmm, but our stuff is stationary, not moving from place to place,” Quest argued.

  “Haven’t you traveled by train before?” Ty folded her arms over her tailored mocha shirt with its cuffed sleeves.

  “I haven’t been on a train since me and Quay went to visit our grandparents in Savannah when we were in college. Remember Quay?” Quest recalled the trip they’d taken to visit their mother’s folks.

  “I
remember,” Quay responded slowly, more interested in Ty’s reaction to Quest’s mention of Savannah. He could tell it had definitely affected her. Yes, she was remembering too.

  The silence, caught Quest’s attention and he tuned into the heaviness of the moment. Clearing his throat, he backed away from the desk and rubbed his hands together.

  “I better go check on the refreshments for your crew when they get here,” he made his way out of the office.

  Ty turned and leaned against the desk, her head bowed. Quay finally relinquished his seat in the back of the office and came to take his place next to her.

  “Remember how much fun we used to have at my grandparent’s place?” he asked.

  Ty let out a deep breath and nodded. “Almost everything fantastic that happened to me, happened in Savannah,” she admitted.

  Quay inched closer, his shoulder brushing hers. “Remember that week?”

  Ty wouldn’t pretend to misunderstand. “I remember it. I could never forget it.”

  Quay’s fingers had been aching to touch her since he’d seen her there in the office. Now he gave into his desire and trailed his fingers across the line of her cheek.

  Ty leaned into the touch only briefly, before she bristled and moved away. “I’m sure many girls remember the Ramsey estate,” she tossed her head back.

  Quay winced, the barb causing a flash of hurt to appear in his dark eyes. “I never took other girls there, Tykira.”

  “Unless they were virgins, right?” she wanted to believe the place had been as special for him as it had been for her and she was failing.

  Quay eased away from the desk and moved to stand before her. “You’re the only one I ever took there,” he stared directly into her eyes. “You’re the only one I ever wanted to take there.”

  Ty tilted her head back again, hoping to prevent unexpected tears from spilling. Quay’s eyes locked in on the thick, glossy fullness of her hair tumbling down her back.

  “You only took me there once,” she quietly reminded him.

  He cupped both hands around her neck and propped his thumbs beneath her chin. “That was the biggest mistake I ever made.”